


Late

by multipurposetoolguy



Series: Tumblr Prompts [1]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Anxiety Disorder, Fluff, Gen, M/M, Panic Attacks, Prompt Fic, Techie worries ok, Tumblr Prompt, at the end, matt has a potty mouth but other than that this doesnt need a lot of tags, uhh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-13
Updated: 2017-11-13
Packaged: 2019-02-01 18:39:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12710643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/multipurposetoolguy/pseuds/multipurposetoolguy
Summary: Matt is home late from work, and Techie is starting to worry...





	Late

**Author's Note:**

  * For [theweddingofthefoxes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/theweddingofthefoxes/gifts).



> I was encouraged to post my recent tumblr drabbles here, so I'll be doing that! I'll round them up in a series to keep them all in one place, and enjoy!
> 
> prompt was the line: "Don't you ever do that again!"

6:15pm, on the dot, Techie arrives at his apartment and walks his bike through the gate and into the garden. At approximately 6:22 he sits down at his desk with a hot tea, checks his emails. He turns on the tv, ready to settle into a few episodes of bake off until Matt gets home, sometime between 8:12 and 8:37, depending on traffic. 

8:15, Techie opens his phone and goes through a few rounds of 2048, distracted. 8:25, he refills his tea. 

8:34. He sends Matt a text full of silly emojis, an excuse to see if he’ll read it at a red light or something, and Techie will know he’s almost home. 

8:46. Sent, but unread. He refills his tea again, adds more sugar than he normally does. He moves from the living room to sit in in the entryway, tucked against the window on the reading bench. A few more games on his phone until he can’t concentrate, checks the text. Still unread. 

He opens the email app with a hurried jab at the screen. Maybe he had to stay late at work, his boss was always dumping work on him (or so Matt liked to complain). His inbox refreshes with a few junk messages, nothing from Matt. He refreshes it four more times, just in case. Maybe he was sending one now? He flicks on the notification sounds so he doesn’t miss it, he almost never has them enabled. 

He’s probably stuck at work, covering any loose projects before the weekend. Most people slacked off on Fridays, and somebody has to get the work done, Techie thinks. But Matt would text him, let him know he was going to be late. He checks the text. Unread. They were going to order pizza tonight, they’d planned it, and their favorite place closes at 9:30. 

Matt’s never been this late before. 

At 9:01, Techie starts to worry. 

He calls Matt’s phone and it goes straight to voicemail. He’d picked up a charger for Matt to keep at work when he found a Kylo Ren themed one at the dollar store, so his phone shouldn’t be dead. Something must be wrong. 

He calls it five more times, Matt’s gruff  _ leave a message, or whatever  _ making his throat feel tight by the third time. He paces in front of the window, googles his work’s public number. It goes to the automatic answering service, directing any after-hours callers to leave a message. He doesn’t, hangs up, and checks his email again while he tries to get a handle on his breathing (which is suddenly very fast, short choppy breaths. 

No new emails.

Text message still unread. 

He sends a few more, trying not to let the clenched-tight-ness of his insides show through his words. 

_ Hey! Heading home yet? _

_ Should I go ahead and order the pizzas? Mushrooms and olives, right?  _

_ Matt? _

He paces, holds his phone tightly in his hands. He triple checks that the volume is up, then he checks again. His tea gets cold. 

At 9:42 he can’t breath. He checks online for any news of car accidents, doesn’t find anything. That could be a worse sign, what if he’s hurt or-or  _ worse  _ and no one knows? What if help doesn’t arrive on time? What if someone came into Matt’s IT office with a gun, like so many places he sees on the news? What if Matt’s phone is off because some horrible person shot it to bits when Matt tried to call for help? 

The texts are all unread.  _ leave a message, or whatever.  _ No new emails.  _ Our normal business hours are 9am to 8pm, Monday through Friday-. _

9:45. Techie can’t  _ breath. _

He calls Armitage, because he doesn’t know what to do and Matt still isn’t home. 

Armitage doesn’t answer. He calls again and again, leaving stuttery and tearful messages that are probably unintelligible anyway, and he can feel the scream building in his throat until he remembers. It’s his brother’s anniversary, with Ben, and they’re out to dinner right now. He told him about it, weeks ago, there are pictures of them dressed sharp and dreamy-eyed on his facebook feed, posted an hour ago. He sucks in a truncated breath, forces it out as smooth as he can. Tidge is busy, but he’s safe. 

10:04, Techie loses the fight with his composure. Tears spill down his face, breathing chopped into pieces by hacking, high-pitched sobs. He pulls his hair, sinks to the floor. His phone is open on the floor near his foot, the only light in the room now dark with the blanket of night settled firmly in place. Message: sent. Unread.   
  


\--------------  
  


Matt slams his palm down on his steering wheel, the car’s horn blaring at the idiot in front of him taking a goddamn eternity to parallel park on a busy residential-adjacent street. 

He’s late,  _ really  _ late, and his boss is an  _ asshole.  _ All he wants right now is to be out of this bullshit traffic, lose his pants and his stupid polo shirt, and have some pizza. He hopes Techie ordered ahead, he’s fucking  _ starving.  _

Finally,  _ finally  _ he pulls into the driveway and as the headlights sweep over the apartment he tenses. Techie is sitting outside, huddled on the front steps in one of Matt’s thicker coats, and he startles to his feet before Matt can even kill the engine. 

He steps out, the car door groaning as he slams it closed. “Babe? What’s wrong? It’s cold as fuck out, what-”

“Don’t you  _ ever  _ do that again!” Techie shouts, or the closest Matt’s ever heard him get to doing so. He’s also--  _ fuck,  _ is he crying?

“I know, I know, it’s fucking- I’m really sorry, my phone-”

“You ca-an’t do that to me Matt, f-fuck, I thought you were  _ dead!”  _ Techie is trembling all over, Matt can see he’s not wearing shoes and his feet are pink with the cold. He chokes out a sob and Matt takes a step forward. 

“Baby, what-? My dumbass boss let Cal and Rena take off after lunch and somehow forgot to tell any of us, and he strong-armed me into staying. I almost punched him Techie, I was really fucking close-”

“I called, I texted you,” Techie says to Matt’s shoes, quieter but hard, defensive. 

“Right. Uh. I tried to argue with him and I got into it and I sort of…” He pulls his phone from his back pocket, shows techie the cracked and darkened screen. “I’ll replace it first thing tomorrow.”

He steps closer, right in front of Techie now, and he doesn’t back away but he doesn’t move forward either. That’s not a good sign. 

“So you, you broke your phone okay, but. You could have sent an email, I kept checking…” He still won’t look at him. Matt puts his hands on Techie’s shoulders, rubs his thumbs in slow circles.  _ Please look at me,  _ they say,  _ I didn’t mean to scare you. _

“You’re right, I should have. I’m sorry, babe, I guess I just.” He takes a deep breath, turns his head to the sky, lets it out through his nose in one big push. He’s home, he’s with Techie, he needs to calm down. “I just wanted to get the work done and get home, as fast as possible. I’m an ass but my boss is a bigger one, I’m really sorry.” 

Techie sniffs, loud in the crisp night air, and Matt pulls him close, wraps his arms around him. He feels Techie’s hands lift weakly around his back. That’s a slightly better sign. 

“You just, you can’t do that Matt, I can’t… I can’t do this…” He’s mumbling into Matt’s chest and he huffs, annoyed. Does Techie thinks he scared him so bad on  _ purpose?  _

“Tech, I’m sorry, but I literally had no choice. He made some smartass comment about cutting hours to people who ‘don’t pull their weight’, which is bullshit because  _ I’m  _ not the one who took a half day, but he’s got a complex and we have bills and shit.” 

Techie takes a half-step away and meets his eyes fiercely, taking Matt’s face in his freezing hands. “I’m not mad at you for getting held over, I’m not- I was just  _ worried,  _ okay? I can’t shut my brain off, it doesn’t, it doesn’t work like that. It’s fine if you have to stay, you just have to  _ tell me,  _ okay?” He closes his eyes and takes a breath, sniffs again. 

“Just make sure I know you haven’t been kidnapped or murdered, and I’ll be okay.”

He tries a weak smile up at him, and Matt is cold and hungry and still a little angry but he gives him a smile back. 

“Okay, I promise. Scouts honor,” He holds up three fingers in muscle-memory, and then shivers visibly. “Fuck, babe, it’s freezing, why aren’t you wearing shoes? Let’s get inside.”  

Techie shivers violently as if his body is just remembering that it’s freezing, like his panic had been keeping him warm and was now ebbing away. Matt swiftly bends and scoops techie up into a bridal carry and he squawks, Matt’s parka bunching up around his face. 

“I should probably carry you, y’know, so you don’t get frostbite.” Techie snorts and rolls his eyes, wipes his cheeks dry. They pass the threshold and Matt kicks the door closed, and he takes an investigative sniff of the air. 

“Pizza?” He sets Techie down and rubs their noses together. 

“No pizza, I had a panic attack for dinner.” 

Matt groans and he kisses Techie’s cheek in apology, while privately his heart breaks. Techie had been making real progress dealing with his anxiety, winning lots of little battles, and Matt swore to himself then and there that he would  _ never  _ be the source of Techie’s pain, never again. 

He pulls Techie into the living room, cranks the heater up, and orders Thai.

**Author's Note:**

> tfw you look at a character and it's like looking in a mirror... 
> 
> (anxiety.png)
> 
> thank you for reading!! :)


End file.
